


Fall Out Boy Imagines

by iamshirelocked



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: F/M, i am trash, ok but some of these are actually decent tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6390748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamshirelocked/pseuds/iamshirelocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of fall out boy/reader one-shots</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pete - Arma Angelus

**Author's Note:**

> requested by: me
> 
> band member: pete wentz
> 
> era: arma angelus
> 
> word count: 639

The music was loud, the people were drunk, and you felt  _incredibly_  out of place. You had never been to a concert before--well, you hadn't been to a local, all-pit, multiple headlining bands concert before. Going to a concert venue for a relatively popular rock band like Green Day was an extremely different experience from going to a local one.

"Oh my god!" Your best friend leaned against your shoulder, tossing her  _Bud Lite_ beer bottle around like it was a throw pillow. You scoffed. "Wasn't that band  _so good_? I loved them--oh, look! There's the guitarist!"

Before you knew it, your best friend had gripped your arm and was bolting across the venue to a circle of four guys. Their foreheads were oozing with sweat, and half of them pressed white towels to their faces to dim the shiny film that was coating their skin. She stopped in front a curly-haired boy, her drunken expression curling into a smirk as she shot a flirty pickup line at him. You laughed at her attempt as someone tapped you on the shoulder. Startled, you whipped around, half expecting to find some date-rapist or serial killer--you didn't go to parties much--but it was just another member of the band. Wasn't he the lead singer?

"Hey."

You smiled. "Hi."

"So, I see your friend's flirting with Joe over there." He gestured nonchalantly to the two, where your friend was resting on Joe and trying to lean in for a kiss.

"I swear--she doesn't normally act like this...she's  _super_  drunk right now."

"It's cool." He nodded, chuckling as Joe pushed your friend away, annoyed. "I'm Pete, by the way...but you just saw our band...you probably knew that."

"I actually didn't catch all of your names," Pete quirked a brow, and you sighed. "Trying not to get trampled...and deal with her..."

"Oh--well we're--"

"Arma Angelus," You interrupted, peeking over to see your friend storming back into the crowd after Joe's rejection. "I know  _that_. I just didn't catch the  _actual_  names, y'know," you smiled, "Oh! I'm (Y/N)...forgot to mention that earlier.."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, (Y/N)," Pete was handed a beer by one of his band-mates, and he took a quick swig before continuing. The two of you talked for a while, and you found out Pete was actually a college student at the nearby DePaul studying political science. You gave each other basic info about each others lives, and it turned out that you two had a lot in common. Time got lost as the two of you talked, and the loud mess of moshing and dancing seemed to drone out from your secluded, enthusiastic conversation.

But was short lived. While you and Pete discussed the annoying rigor of college courses, you heard a piercing sound, the loud crash shattering the happy tone you and Pete had created, and your head whipped over to see (Y/B/F/N) with beer soaking her hair and a broken bottle dangling from her fingers. She had reemerged from the crowd and was now hitting on the drummer, her short arm slyly snaking around his bare waist. "Oh--shit. (Y/B/F/N)..." You whipped around, realization smashing into you. "I completely forgot--I should probably take her home." You turned to face Pete. "Sorry."

"It's cool...hey, what's your number?" He asked just as you turned to leave, and you felt bad again for trying to leave a conversation so quickly. You voiced your phone number to him, and he grinned. "Thanks! Hope to see you around!"

"See ya!" You called, turning on your heel and gripping your friend's arm. You waved and before you knew it, you were driving home with a very drunk person who had caused way too much damage in the passenger seat of your car. Now you could only pray that she wouldn't distract you from driving...

 


	2. Andy - Your Secret's Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by: me
> 
> band member: andy hurley
> 
> word count: 777 (ay its my lucky number three times in a row)
> 
> era: ab/ap

Your dark blue sneakers collided with the hardwood in you and your boyfriends' house as you whipped your head back and forth, searching for your tattooed lover. When you entered the kitchen, you smiled, noticing Andy swirling a wooden spoon around in a pot of what was most likely some vegan pasta for your homemade Valentine's Day dinner. He was facing the wall opposite the entrance, so you slid quietly across the tiles. You wrapped your arms around his torso, and the redhead jumped in surprise, causing a giggle to escape your lips. "Hey, babe."

Andy grinned when he saw you, shaking his head as he turned back to the pasta, "Hey."

"Whatcha makin'?" you inquired, peeking over his shoulder to see the bubbling pot, "Noodles?" Andy nodded. "Yummy," You snaked your arm off of his waist and bounced around (with a little too much pep) to face your boyfriend. His blue eyes turned to you as he placed the wooden spoon on a paper towel, leaning lightly against the granite.

"What's up?"

You feigned confusion, knitting your brows together, "What do you mean?"

Andy raised his eyebrows, "You seem awfully jumpy--did you eat all the chocolates?" his eyes shot over to the closed cabinet, where you kept the non-vegan sweets.

"No..." you smiled, "I'll tell you over dinner."

Andy rolled his eyes and turned back to the pan, curiosity glinting in his eyes and a smile tugging on his thin lips. You pecked his cheek and dashed off into the bathroom, grinning like a fucking idiot.

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

The kitchen was silent, the only sound being the clinking of forks against porcelain plates and the hushed slurping of vegan alfredo noodles. A bit of the buttery sauce got on your lip, so you giggled and quickly swiped your tongue across your bottom lip. Andy looked up at you, taking a quick sip of his water, "So, what did you want to tell me earlier?" He leaned forward on the table, his cleared plate hidden underneath his tattooed arms as you leaned back, twisting your fork around the remaining noodles on your plate.

"Well..." you looked down, placing your fork gingerly on the tablecloth, "It's Valentine's Day," Andy smiled knowingly, "And I love you so, so much, Andy...I really do."

Andy's brows furrowed, the smile wiping off of his face, "Is something...wrong?"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, "No, no! Nothing's wrong...okay. Let me start over," you sat up, taking in a deep breath. This was really nerve-wracking. You fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth and made eye contact with Andy, "I have one more present for you."

"You really didn't have to, (Y/N)--"

"Shh," you slid out of the wooden chair and fished out the pregnancy test you had put in your pocket. Andy shot up from his seat, life pouring into his blue eyes and he darted over to you, snatching the test out of your hands. His lively eyes were now glossy as he stared at the plus sign on the test. His lips parted into a orange peel grin, and, without warning, he leaned forward and his lips crashed into yours. Warmth spread through your body and happiness erupted from your stomach. He pulled away moments later.

"We're--we're going to be parents," Andy looked at the test again.

"I've known for a few weeks," you started, "I figured it'd be an awesome Valentine's gift."

"It's the best gift I've ever gotten," Andy smiled and pecked your lips again, "I can't wait to show him--or her--Star Wars and teach them how to play video games and--"

You laughed, "You're going to be an amazing father, Andy," you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "But don't forget about Harry Potter."

"Yes, yes--Harry Potter, too," he giggled. You pulled him into a hug and squeezed his torso, "Oh my god," he pulled away, "We need to tell the guys!"

You nodded, and Andy whipped out his phone and began dialing Pete's number. You examined the pure bliss and excitement in his eyes, the way his feet were doing a little dance on the tiles, the single tear that escaped his ducts. You couldn't help but feel a tear drip down your cheek, and you wiped it away with your sleeve. You were one of the luckiest women alive, and you were more than ecstatic to be having your child with your one true love. Andy put the phone on speaker, and you spilled the news to Pete.

"Ayyy--welcome to the kids club!" Pete laughed, "You both are gonna be great parents."

Pete was right: you and Andy were gonna be fantastic parents.


	3. Patrick - Newly Friends (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by: me
> 
> word count: 1402
> 
> band member: patrick stump
> 
> era: american beauty/american psycho
> 
> special guest: dan howell

It was nearing October of 2015, when most of the major conventions had passed and you were left to simply making your own videos. You were a YouTuber, and a relatively popular one--reaching close to three million subscribers due to your mixture of vlogs and casual gaming videos. Most of the YouTubers during this time were finding their ways to interview celebrities--your close friend, Dan, had gotten the chance to interview Jennifer Lawrence, Hannah had interviewed Daniel Freaking Radcliffe, Lilly was going to be meeting Selena Gomez the following month, the list went on--but you hadn't been given any such opportunities. You felt left out, with Hannah texting you constantly, freaking out about the celebrity aspect of the Harry Potter star, and Grace fangirling over The Rock.

One afternoon, you were filming a short vlog in which you complained about the busy London streets. After you were finished, you quickly packed up your camera and plopped back on your jet black duvet, staring up at the ceiling. You could have just laid there, thinking and coming up with ideas to further procrastinate doing actual work, but you found yourself reaching for your MacBook and logging onto your Gmail account.

The screen was decorated with a background of a forest--one of Google's default options for email backgrounds--and you had five unread emails. Quirking a brow, you skimmed the subjects to see who needed to talk to you. Interview at BBC One, Hot Topic Newsletter...wait what? You froze, your eyes locked on the third email down. It was sent three hours ago, and the subject alone made your stomach erupt in nervousness. Placing your hand on the mouse, you slid it over to expand the email.

_Y/N,_

_I am a worker for Crush Management, the managing company of the band Fall Out Boy. One of the members, Patrick, has recently brought to my attention that many youtubers are doing celebrity collaborations. I was wondering if you would be interested in making a youtube video with Patrick Stump when they come to England on their upcoming tour. Please reply as soon as possible so we can make the proper arrangements._

_Sincerely,_

_Crush Management_

You perused the email three times, and then analyzed and scanned the few sentences for another five. Was this real? Were you actually being asked to interview the frontman of the band that shaped and changed your college life?

Without even checking your schedule, you sent the manager a quick reply accepting the offer. You would plan around this.

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

"Hey, I'm kind of doing a collab with Patrick Stump and we're going to play the newly friends game and I need you to ask the questions..." You pressed your friend, Dan, when you were over his apartment a few days later, filming a collab for your channels. It was going to be a fun one; the two of you would go on Shamchat and essentially role-play with strangers. You smiled innocently, observing as his face went into shock as he plugged his camera into his computer in the game room to transfer the footage.

"Wait, what?"

"I'm...uh...doing a collab with Patrick Stump..."

"Wait, as in Patrick...Fall Out Boy Patrick?"

"Yes, it's happening," you fell back onto the leather couch, still in disbelief that it was even happening to you. Dan was flustered, and seemed like he was about to start freaking out, Hell, even faint from the memory of his fanboying teenage years.

"No. Fucking. Way."

"What? You've interviewed him twice. Pete even prank called you for God's sake."

"But it's Patrick Stump." The youtuber sighed, turning away from the computer after seeing his files were successfully on his mac. "Where are you guys meeting?"

"Backstage at one of Fall Out Boy's London concerts." You grinned, quirking an eyebrow at Dan. "Their manager said that I could bring someone to help with the questions...you'd get to watch the show from backstage...and I could probably persuade him to let Phil in too..."

"So, they would all be there?"

"Probably...I dunno."

Dan furrowed his brows, thinking through the whole idea, and after what felt like forever, he nodded, "Sure, I'll come. But I'm probably going to be a nervous wreck."

"So will I."

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

It was mid-October, you were sitting on an uncomfortable couch in Fall Out Boy's dressing room, and Dan was plopped down right next to you. You had been able to get Phil a ticket, but he had planned to meet up with some friends for lunch so he wouldn't arrive until the actual concert. Anxiety was the only thing present in your mind; it wrapped itself around your stomach in endless knots and erupted in flocks of butterflies.

The clock had just struck twelve twenty-eight, and supposedly Patrick would be arriving for the video at twelve-thirty in order to finish it up before the meet and greet. You had set up your camera fifteen minutes previous.

"You got the questions ready?"

"Yup."

"White boards cleaned?"

"They were never written on."

"Cool."

Dan jumped suddenly, "Shit--I forgot! Phil and I baked cupcakes for the band--shit. I should probably go get them."

"But, you--"

"Just talk to Patrick for a bit and we can start when I get back--the manager said there was no rush."

"Oh...okay..."

And with that, Dan rushed out the door and you were left alone, in the room, waiting for your childhood crush to come in through the heavy, jet black door. You let out a shaky breath.

After three minutes, you heard footsteps and faint laughing coming from the hallway outside. You debated standing up and greeting them at the door--was that even them? It could have just been a group of roadies. Would it be better if you stayed on the couch and stood up when Patrick and security entered? You never really worried about social presence until now...how on earth would you say--

"Hi!" The door swung open, revealing five men. Four of which were in your favorite band, and the fifth being their security guard. You smiled and stood up as the person in front, Patrick Fucking Stump, skipped over and engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug. "It's so nice to finally meet you! I'm Patrick." The singer held out a hand, and you eagerly shook it, an unbreakable grin breaking out on your face.

"(Y/N). Huge fan," Wait--was that the right thing to say? Was this a professional interview...a professional encounter? No...he just greeted you by hugging you. You could have said that. A wave of relief rushed over you as Patrick introduced his other band-mates and their security guard, Marcus. You shook all of their hands, hugged Pete and Andy, and smiled from the inside out. You still couldn't believe that Fall Out Boy was actually talking to you and knew that you even existed.

"So, are you ready to go?" Patrick inquired, his eyes breaking away from you for a split second to look at the couch and camera.

"Not yet." You interrupted his examination of the video space, and he turned back to you, an eyebrow raised. "My friend, Dan, is grabbing something from the car--"

"Wait Dan--as in Dan and Phil?" Pete hopped up; a smile was plastered on his face, but his eyes were in shock and he seemed slightly intimidated. You nodded. "Shit--I've gotta apologize for that prank thing." Joe laughed in response, and all heads turned to the past victim as he burst in, his arms balancing various plastic containers filled with cupcakes. You swore he almost dropped them when he caught a glance of Pete.

"Oh...er...hi!"

"Hey--I'm so sorry about the call, man." The blond rushed over to Dan and hugged him.

"I-it's cool."

Neither of them spoke another word as Pete pulled away, shuffling away as Patrick and Andy gave him a hug too (Joe simply gave a firm high five due to his recent back surgery). Your brunette friend shook Marcus's hand and then joined you by the couch, turning on the camera on its tripod and making sure the lighting materials were in place.

"Patrick, you ready?"

Patrick nodded, and skipped over to the couch where he sat down, picking up one of the white boards. Your stomach still churning, you plopped down next to him, lightly chatting to inform Patrick what you two would be doing for the video: the Newly Friend game. You told him that you would explain how to play in the video, but that it would be super fun. He seemed to believe you as a smile of excitement etched on his face.

_Well, here we go..._


	4. Joe - Joseph Joseph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by: me
> 
> word count: 402
> 
> band member: joe trohman
> 
> era: save rock and roll
> 
> (btw: ik this ones rly short and weird but bear with me; i'm working on a bunch of other long joe imagines)

"Joe?" You were resting on the brown couch in you and your boyfriend's' house, idly flipping through the various channels on television. You had heard Joe's socked feet stepping on the dark hardwood, and the creaking of a loose floorboard. You propped yourself up, turning to your fro-haired boyfriend.

"Yeah, babe?" he quirked a brow, an empty mug of coffee in his hand.

"I have made a revelation." Joe scoffed, making his way over to the couch to join you. He gingerly placed the mug on the side table and turned to you expectantly. "So...you know Tyler Joseph, right? From Twenty One Pilots, the band you--"

He nodded, his eyes uncertain, "Yeah..."

"Well," you sat up, your eyes hinting with mischief and the corners of your mouth upturned, "I was thinking...and--oh my God, this is hilarious--if you two got married, you would be Joseph Joseph."

Joe deadpanned, "That was your revelation?" he was trying his best to keep his expression monotone. He wanted to seem like a pretentious little shit who didn't have time for coincidental puns, but you could see the hint of a smile playing on his mouth and the amusement glinting in his blue irises.

"It's hilarious!" you defended, "It's like Phillip Phillips...or...or the whole thing where Taylor Lautner and Taylor Swift got married they would both be Taylor Lautner...it's fucking hilarious, and you know it," Joe was biting the insides of his cheeks, trying to keep a single laugh from flying out of his pink lips. "It's like...oh! Another revelation!" Joe rolled his eyes. "If Andy and Hurley from Lost got married, Hurley would be...Hurley Hurley!" You began laughing, and doubled over almost as much as you had when you made the Joseph Joseph revelation, "Just admit it, Joe. It's really fucking funny."

"Okay...it's really fucking funny, actually," Joe let a laugh escape his lips, "Though I doubt Andy and Hurley would ever date."

"And why not?"

"Because...you know...Hurley's on an island...or dead...or whatever. Andy's in LA."

"I thought Andy was on vacation in Hawaii?" You sassed, your eyebrows furrowing in fake confusion, "Anyway, if the fans don't ship Joseph Joseph, I do."

Joe laughed, his shoulders bouncing as he stood up and continued back on his journey to the kitchen to wash his mug, "You're such a nerd."

"Love you, too, babe."

Joe chuckled, disappearing into the kitchen with a playful eye roll, "Love you."


	5. Pete - Favorite Record

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by: me
> 
> word count: 1172
> 
> band member: pete wentz
> 
> era: ab/ap

Pete had gotten a text from his bandmate, Joe, two days before the event, and it was totally last minute. Pete had been planning a meeting with Brendon to discuss the new album and all that jazz, you had a doctor's appointment, this, that, and everything piled up and it was possibly the worst time to embark on a road trip...but Joe had to fuck it all with:

_Hey, last minute bday party for Marie_

_Sacramento on Saturday_

_Please please come--it's a surprise!_

Okay, so Sacramento wasn't that far, but it was pretty far, and you had to cancel a few meetings and a doctor's appointment to go celebrate. But you tried to be positive--Marie was a good friend of yours, and, hey, you and Pete hadn't gone on a trip together in long, long time. Heading to northern Cali for the weekend would be a nice little break.

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

The car radio was on full volume, blaring some preppy summer song you hadn't heard before and honestly, you didn't like it too much. The chorus was repetitive, there was way too much synth, and still, you found yourself nodding your head to the beat. Your boyfriend, Pete, let out a deep chuckle.

"And you said you would never enjoy pop music..."

"Hey," you defended, "How do you know I'm enjoying it? I...I could just be nodding my head to the beat because that's what you do with music..."  
Pete's eyes flashed over to you and he rolled his eyes, "Sure."

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

You stared down at the tires, kicking up puffs of dirt on the desert road. Your hand rested out of the open window, a cool breeze blowing your hair into your face. The radio switched from Cheerleader to Uma Thurman. You giggled.

"Oh, God," Pete groaned, shaking his head and turning to change the station. As proud of his band as he was, he was never one to enjoy listening to his own music on the radio. You turned your head and slapped his hand away from the touch screen.

"No, no, don't change it."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "It's cool. I love your music."

A smile tugged at the corner of Pete's lips as he turned his attention back to the highway. The song blasted through the small car, travelling out the window and projecting to the lack of people driving alongside you. You hummed along with the chorus and for a second, Pete's eyes flickered away from the road to watch you buzzing and bopping along to the beat. He started dancing too.

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

"How far are we away from the exit?"

Pete hummed lightly, refusing to take his eyes off of the dusty road ahead, and shrugged his shoulders, his lips in a slight pout. "What was the last one we saw?"

"Forty-five--I think," you scanned the sides of the road for any bright green signs, any hint of civilization, "Oh, no, wait--we just passed forty-seven," you sighed, leaning back and rolling your head lazily back to your long-term boyfriend, "Which exit do we get off on again?"

"Uh," Pete drummed his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel. "Don't remember...can you text Joe for me real quick?"

"Sure."

You snatched up his phone out of the cup holder and thumbed it on, tapping his messages and shooting a quick one to Joe: Hey what's the town again? Pete forgot the exit--from (Y/N). You waited for a reply, and when the little white speech bubble appeared which conveyed Joe's response, you groaned.

"What?"

"We passed the exit an hour ago."

"...shit."

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

You were still bopping your head to the beat of the song, trying your hardest to make the unnecessary journey back as painless and quick as possible, but both you and Pete already knew that you were going to be late to the party. He was skittish in the driver's seat; you had offered to take his place for the journey back, but he insisted that it was his fault and he had to drive. You still had forty-five minutes left to go...and then the ten minutes from the exit to the restaurant where Joe was holding the party. Though Joe seemed nonchalant to your bad news, you knew Joe, and he was most likely super upset that one of his closest friends would be coming nearly an hour late.

"This is why we need Waze or something."

"What?"

Pete coughed, "It's this navigation app...we need it so next time--"

"Oh, yeah," you exhaled, "How much longer?"

"Forty-five."

"Cool."

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

In a second, Pete leaned over and crashed his lips with yours.

It was really, really sudden, and you two had only been talking about the Billboard Top 10 of the week, when it happened. You hadn't been expecting it, and in that single moment you forgot about the annoying summer hit that was blasting from the radio. There was nothing but the breeze whistling through the air, the tires squeaking underneath you, the endless miles stretching out in front of the claustrophobic car. You didn't even notice the slight swerve of the car for a few seconds.

But then it hit you and your eyes flashed open, smothering all traces of romantic tension instantly. You whipped your head to the road and you saw that, in the five seconds you had been kissing your boyfriend, the car had swerved and--shit--there was a car coming head on straight for you guys.

"Shit--shit--Pete! Go!" You leaned over and took the wheel from your shocked boyfriend's hands. Your stomach erupted in nervousness, your head pounding as you swerved the car away from the quickly approaching vehicle and back into your lane's shoulder. The car jerked, colliding with a cement wall on the side of the highway. The airbags deployed and the radio paused.

"Holy fuck--sorry, oh my God," Pete breathed, pushing away his airbag and heaving.

"That was..." You shut your eyes, "Terrifying."

"That was so fucking terrifying."

"Yup."

"If it's okay with you, I'm never going to kiss you in a moving vehicle again."

"I'm perfectly fine with that."

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

"Yeah, Patrick..." Pete was pacing back and forth on the side of the road. Other than the one car, no others had come by to help. You were stranded on the side of the road, with a scarily dented car, damaged battery, and two fully charged cell phones. You sat on the back hood of the car, your head buried in your hands. The kiss had been great, sure, but now you weren't only late to Joe's party, but Pete was begging Patrick to come pick you two up nearly a half hour away. You felt horrible.

Pete took the phone away from his ear and sighed. "What's up? Is 'Trick coming?"

"Yeah," he ran a hand through his dyed blond hair, "He says Joe's bummed though. We really need to pay more attention next time."

"Yeah, and we also need to pay more attention to when we kiss people."

The radio sparked up again suddenly; Uma Thurman playing once again. Pete laughed, "Agreed."


	6. Andy - Pundertale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requested by: me
> 
> word count: 1268
> 
> band member: andy hurley (xvx)
> 
> era: ab/ap

You knew that your boyfriend, Andy, was one of the hugest gamers around. When he wasn't working with his band, doing CrossFit, or...well, whenever he had free time, really, he would just play video games. Mainly Xbox, PS4, but you (the "gamer" who stuck to strictly Sims and occasionally Minecraft) had a new game today. It seemed that everyone and their mother knew and played Undertale, except for you and Andy. Hell, even Pete was texting you a few days ago about how he was spending hours trying to figure out this game. You decided to give it a try.

"Andy, babe," you darted into your living room, where the drummer laid on the couch, flipping through a fitness magazine. You chuckled, "Babe."

"Hm?" He sat up, draping one of his tattooed hands over the back of the couch and looking at you, "What's up?"

"I have found a new video game."

One of his eyebrows flew up immediately, "What kind of video game are we talking about? RPG? MMO?"

"Ever heard of Undertale?"

His eyebrows knit together in thought, and then it hit him, "Wait, isn't that the game Pete started playing? I saw him tweeting the other day..."

"Yuperoni," you clapped your hands together, "Just bought it."

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes!" Andy pouted, and you scurried along the hardwood, plopping down on the couch next to your boyfriend, "Please, Pete says it's really, really funny," Andy didn't phase. "It was only ten dollars, and I don't want to play it by myself..."

His opinion still didn't budge; he was shaking his head with an amusing smile.

"C'mon Andy, when do I ever have an interest in video games, hm?"

The redhead rolled his eyes, "Fine, I'll give it a shot, I guess."

You fist pumped, "Yes!"

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

"Look, it's a flower!"

You two had decided to take turns controlling, and currently, you were the one behind the mouse and keyboard. It was only the beginning of the game, with Andy already intrigued by the existence of monsters and humans in this game. Your character was named Peter, ironically, and you had just encountered a dandelion with eyes.

"Howdy!" You read, your voice switching from your current accent to a bad imitation of a southern accent, "I'm Flowey, Flowey the Flower!"

"Oh God..."

"Hmm...you're new to the underground, aren'tcha?"

Andy laughed suddenly, "Are you going to do voices for all of these?"

You shrugged, "Why not?" You coughed, switching back to the accent as you read the rest of Flowey's text, in which he offered to teach you two--or Peter, in the case of the game--how to navigate and play. Basic tutorial stuff, you thought. Which all seemed normal until the only thing on the screen was a tiny heart. "Holy--what?"

Then Flowey's next text appeared, and Andy pointed, "it's teaching us how to fight, I think."

"Really?"

"Maybe."

You began reading again as Flowey appeared at the top of your screen, "See that heart?"

"Yeah."

"That is your soul, the very culmination of your being..." You and Andy exchanged looks of horror. You read the rest of his lines with a wavering southern accent. Andy took over the controls, moving the heart around a tiny box. It was odd...why didn't they just have a character or something? Flowey announced that Love was what powered your soul, and while you and Andy agreed, both of you felt on edge about this character's motives. And when the flower offered to give you friendliness pellets, your boyfriend knew immediately what was going on.

"Shit, they're dangerous, I--" And all of the pellets came down in one swift motion and attacked the heart, the screen shaking to show that damage had been taken, "Fuck!" Andy facepalmed for a moment, just enough time for you to realize that the flower had morphed into a terrifying face.

"Look--"

"Holy fuck."

"You idiot!" You read again, this time lowering your voice to add to the scary character, "In this world, it's kill or be killed--harsh--Why would anyone pass up an opportunity like this?"

A circle of friendliness pellets surrounded the small heart, and Andy, still on the controls, began moving the "soul" around frantically. "Andy, you're gonna get us killed, move, move!"

"I'm trying, hold on!"

They began going inwards, closer, and closer, and--

Everything stopped. A fireball appeared out of nowhere, destroying the flower. Your eyes widened, and then a goat lady-type thing slid in. "Oh..."

"Andy, you should take this voice--I can't do them all."

"Alright," he squinted his eyes at the screen, "What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth...do not be afraid child. I am Toriel, caretaker of the ruins." Andy delivered the lines perfectly, his already high voice complementing the caring nature of Toriel. And when the goat lady beckoned you to follow her into the ruins, you followed.

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

"No, no, no! We can't fight Toriel--she's, like, our mother!"

"Let's just try and spare her a million times."

"Good plan."

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

"Wait...so that was just the intro?" Andy questioned as the title of the game filled the screen. He leaned back in the desk's swivel chair, it bouncing a few times.

"I guess..."

You pressed enter, and on the screen was a flower.

"No, not this shit again..."

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

"These guys are literally puns," you stated as the screen zoomed in on Sans. He had just told a pun (a skele-ton of work, how funny). "And his text is literally in comic fucking sans, oh God, I'm screaming," you leaned over and hit your head lightly on the table a few times. As much as you loved telling puns, when other people told them, a cringey feeling erupted.

"And another," Andy pointed out when you lifted your head, the screen zooming in on the hoodie-wearing skeleton once more.

"Oh my God, no wonder Pete likes this."

"And Papyrus's text is in papyrus."

"What?" You stared deeply into the screen, and sure enough, Papyrus was speaking in all-caps papyrus. "What the fuck, Toby Fox."

"I think that's the mantra for this game, honestly."

"True."

"Oh, Papyrus's gone," Andy commented, seeing how you could now control Peter to go talk to Sans. You made the character walk down to the skeleton, and he told you that you could go. And, when you went to go to the next screen, Sans stopped you, insisting that Peter help him show his brother what a human looks like. You and Andy exchanged looks.

"But isn't he a human hunter?"

"Yup."

You fiddled with the controls, trying to go back so you wouldn't have to confront the less-cool skeleton, "I think we have to help him out."

"Yup."

"Damnit."

\--OoO--OoO--OoO--

You closed your eyes slightly, swallowing quickly to stifle the yawn that was trying to escape your throat, "Okay, so here--"

"You're tired."

"What?" You swallowed another yawn, sitting up straighter in your wooden chair. "I'm not tired, listen, we just have to do this one last puzz--"

"Okay," Andy was on controls, and began going backwards.

"No, no--"

"I'm going back to the spaghetti Papyrus made for us, and we're going to save, and you're going to get some sleep."

"I'm perfectly awake, thank you."

"No, you're not," he pointed, approaching the little star that served as a save point. "Plus, I have a recording session tomorrow, it's like ten pm--we need to sleep."

You groaned, throwing your head back and staring at the pale ceiling, "Fine, Mother Hurley."

His lips turned upwards into a smile, "We can continue tomorrow."

You sighed in relief, "Good."


End file.
